A Darkness That Torments You
by Rosie McLovin
Summary: What if Eva wasn't the biological mother of Dante and Vergil? Who was the human that bore Sparda's children? And what happened to her? Based on Laryna6's story 'As The Trumpets Sound'.
1. Chapter 1

**A Darkness That Torments You**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**** This story was inspired after I read "As The Trumpets Sound" by Laryna6. As such, elements from that story are going to be used in this one, only with a twist. Mind you, I found "As The Trumpets Sound" an enjoyable story and Laryna6 really outdid herself when she wrote it, but there were many things that I disliked about it at the same time. This story is going to be almost a "What I would do if I was in that situation" type of story. Mind you, this is NOT a Sparda/Eva fanfiction. This is just an idea I had, something that ties into the Devil May Cry storyline (events in the game still take place, this is just something with a twist). I hope you enjoy it. Please read/comment/criticize. I would appreciate it. I don't own Devil May Cry or any of the characters. I own Nora and this story and nothing more.**

_"In Your Eyes I See  
__A Darkness That Torments You  
__And In Your Head Where It Dwells  
__I'd Give You My Hand  
__If You'd Reach Out And Grab It  
__Let's Walk Away From This Hell..."  
_-Into the Dark, The Juliana Theory

* * *

**Chapter One**

Things had finally seemed to be going according to plan.

Graduation, a car, a job. Now all that she needed was the money to go to the college of her choice. Nora had her mind set, and as far as she was concerned, there was nothing that was going to get in her way. She was working harder then she ever had before, saving up as much money as possible to pay for her tuition. She stopped going to the mall as frequently, stopped going to the movies as often, and quit smoking cigarettes all together (she was surprised at how much money she saved doing that). She was going to be as persistant and as focused as possible to reach her goal. To go to that school. To create a life for herself...

Her family was supportive in the sense that they pitched it as much money as they could afford, but she knew she had nobody to rely on but herself if she wanted to go to that school. They weren't very successful or wealthy people, and Nora felt wrong asking them for money, so she hardly ever did. But mostly, she was annoyed at how they responded to her determination. Instead of praising her for it, they criticized her. She was spending more time focusing on raising money then she was on being social. She wasn't dating, she wasn't visiting her friends as often as she used to, claiming that she would probably be spending too much money on gas and booze if she were to do that. It was really starting to aggreviate her.

Her older sister was a hard worker. She had the same kind of determination that Nora had when it came to her studies. But when she was pregnant at eighteen, that was when Nora saw all of that hard work go right to waste. Nora knew first hand that boyfriends and children got in the way of things. She wasn't in the mood for dating, and _certainly_ didn't plan on having kids. Granted, her nephew was a complete doll, but she had no patience whatsoever for children. At times Nora and her sister would get into a horrible fight over him, when he was being too loud and distracting when she was trying to work. Yes, she certainly didn't want to have one of those.

Nora was an art student. It was her passion. She wanted nothing in this world but full concentration and art supply, because her works were nothing short then perfection. The projects were usually very abstract, and she claimed that they were based on the images in her mind. Some were paintings of landscapes, pictures in her mind about forests, mountains, beachs, while others were drawings of people, both fictional and real. She used to create costumes for the drama club at her high school and was praised for her creativity and detail in each one she made (to her dismay, she had to sell most of them on the Internet in order to pay for her tuition).

But her latest work was done in oil pastels and water color. Celestial figures, demonic figures, light and darkness colliding together like a yin-yang. Shadows that resembled demons, and highlights that resembled angels. She wasn't sure why this particular topic came to mind. She wasn't exactly a _religious_ person, so faith had nothing to do with the portrait. Although she did love mythology and fantasy, she didn't think that her works were based off of anything from the Greek and Roman stories.

It didn't quite matter to her though. She had a talent for taking things from her mind and putting them on a canvas for all to see. It was as close to a window into her imagination as she could get, and it worked perfectly. The college thought so as well, after recieving a letter with pictures of her work. Going to that school would be a dream come true for her. She wouldn't let anything get in her way, no matter what...

Twilight had come now. It was Friday: movie night for her family. She left the canvas in her room, changed out of her dirty, paint-splattered clothes and proceeded out of the house. Her mother had given her money to go to the store and buy the candy and cheese corn for the movie. Her father had rented a film adaption of the story about the Greek god Hades and his beautiful captive, Persephone. She had been wanting to watch that movie ever since she saw the previews for it on television, yet refused to go to the theatre to see it herself. Nora didn't want to waste money on gas, so instead of taking the car, she pocketed the cash and began to walk.

"Excuse me..."

Halfway to the store, she stopped in her tracks after being addressed. Nora blinked and turned around.

A man stood before her, dressed rather strangely, but she didn't say anything. He had an accent (which to her surprise, sounded very similiar to that of _Kain_, the protagonist from a favorite video game of hers), and she figured that he was probably a foreigner who was on vacation. He was holding some kind of amulet that was glowing brightly in his hand. She looked from the amulet to his face, a puzzled expression playing on her face.

"Hello... are you lost?" she asked him.

"Not anymore..." the man responded as he moved the amulet in her direction. "As it turns out, I seem to have found the person I was looking for..."

She did _not_ like the way that sounded, for some reason. Everything in her being was telling her to run home.

"What is your name?" he asked.

She ignored that feeling, still feeling uncomfortable. "Nora Jacobs." she rose an eyebrow. "I... don't think we've met before. Did you hear about me from the school?" She was considered a prodigy in her school for her unique, artistic talents. Sometimes her work made the newspapers. Perhaps he wanted to buy a painting?

But if that was the case, he would have known her name...

"I did not." he responded, then tucked the amulet away. "I am sorry to disturb you, but I must ask you something. It may sound strange, but I ask that you stay and indulge me..."

_Run home._ she thought to herself. _Get away from this creep._

He saw her discomfort and spoke again. "Please..."

She sighed. "Please make it quick. I have to get home."

"Do you, Miss Nora... believe in magic?" he asked.

She wanted to roll her eyes, but didn't want to come off as rude. But all the while, she felt that he was just wasting her time. "Not... really..."

The man rose an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah..." Nora began. "I'm not into the whole Wicca, witchcraft and sorcerery thing. Personally... I think it's all a bunch of bull..." she stopped herself. She didn't want to rant, or offend him. Judging by the way he looked, she figured that he was probably a Pagan. It would be rude to insult his faith. "Well_, I _don't believe in it. I'm not saying that _you_ don't have to..."

He shook his head. "This is going to be difficult... it may surprise you, but magic _does_ exist... and you have a lot of it inside of you."

The last time Nora heard something like that was when she was in the eighth grade and was dating a boy who happened to be in a gothic clique. Apparentally he wholeheartedly believed thatt he was thousands of years old and his entire family were demons from Hell. As it turns out, he was just an idiot who read too many of Raven Silverwolf's novels. Needless to say, she was about to tell him to buzz off and be on her merry way.

But that feeling kicked in. What was it? Dellusion? Instinct? Whatever it was, she was believing him. Something inside of her knew that he was right. He seemed to notice this, and began to speak again.

"There is nothing wrong about it..." he said. "As you may or may not know - it doesn't matter - there are two kinds of magic in existance. One of darkness, and one of light. Yours is of light."

Light, like an angel. At least, that was the first thing that came to mind. It was another one of those feelings that kicked in. One that seemed so unbelievable, yet she knew it to be true. People had always commented on her art as angelic, and she noticed that the elderly and sick that visited the art shows seemed to look young and lively again after visiting her portion of the gallery. Sick relatives and friends that she visited seemed to get better faster then usual as well... even her little nephew seemed to be abnormally healthy then a three-year-old little boy ought to be...

"Your children would inherit that power as well..." he continued. "Which is why..."

Her head snapped up and looked right at him with large eyes. Another one of those feelings. She almost knew exactly what he was going to tell her...

"You aren't married, are you?" he asked. For some reason, she knew that he was delying his request.

"Of course not!" she snapped. "And I don't plan on getting married anytime soon. Besides, boyfriends and dates cost a lot of money with the restaurants and movies and gasoline for the cars and stuff, and I'm saving up every penny I own to go to a college I want to attend. I literally work myself to the point where I'm about to break because I want to go there so bad, and I'm so determined..." she realized that she was ranting and stopped herself. "Anyways... I can't let boys get in the way of things. It's my dream to go to that school and I've been working hard to get there. I can't let anything get in my way..."

He nodded slightly. "I commend you for your determination." he looked impressed, but it was evident that he disliked the idea.

She wanted to run. She didn't like this guy. There was something about him that scared her. And it was getting darker... she wasn't far from home. She could sprint there if she absolutely had to. But why wasn't she? He noticed her eyes shifting from him to the direction of her house and began to speak again.

"Do you know the legend of Sparda?" he asked her.

"I heard about him in my mythology class..." she admitted. "Something about him killing demons, coming to Earth, sealing off the Demon World with a sacrifice... something along those lines?"

He looked troubled by her words, but nodded slowly. "Something..." he muttered, then rose his voice. "The reason I ask is... I want to have children."

She blinked. "That's... nice..."

He still looked troubled. "And if you were the mother..."

She stopped him right there. "Sir... you don't seem to be from around here. But in this country, people don't usually hook up with _complete strangers_." she put her hands on her hips. "And remember when I told you about that college? Boyfriends aren't the only things that get in the way of things. Babies do too. And I'll be damned if I'm going to throw away months of work and sacrifice towards achieving my dream just to be mother to some screaming kids with somebody that _I don't even know_-"

In the middle of her rant, he held up his hands. "Please... I know it sounds like a lot to ask, but because of your magic, if you were the mother, your children would be capable of surviving... one of your powers include the ability to heal faster then that of a normal human being, and..."

She glared at him. "I'm sorry Mister, but you're-"

"I can pay you. I can get you into that college, if that is your desire." he said, and his face showed no signs of deceit. "I'm dying... this is important..."

Nora hesitated... he dressed odd, but formal. And judging by his groomed hair and glass eye, he did look rich and wealthy. The very thing that she wasn't. Could she, perhaps... but then she stopped herself.

"You're missing the point!" she protested. "I can't go to college if I'm pregnant. I wouldn't be able to focus on my studies when I'm throwing up or taking care of a baby. Sir, I can hardly take care of myself. How am I supposed to take care of a baby?" then she crossed her arms. "Besides, I'm glad you're willing to pay for it, but I'd rather work for it. I don't want to take people's money..."

That look of admiration came again... but he still looked troubled. Perhaps desperate. "You don't understand... the fate of the world is at stake, Nora. I have protected this world for a millenia... and now I am dying. My children must continue to guard humanity..."

That did it. That hit the nail on the head. There was no lying, his face still showed no signs of deceit or that of someone who was playing a prank. He knew about magic... he said she had it inside of her... and now...

"You're not..." she didn't want to believe it. "You really aren't..." she felt herself shaking. "What _are_ you?"

He straightened himself, then bowed his head slightly as he spoke. "My name is Sparda..."

She was shaking more... she remembered in mythology, Sparda was supposed to be the good guy, wasn't he? But the stories she had read... the kind of creature he was before he became the "good guy"... he was a monster. A murderer. This man who stood before her, with that eerie presence around him, who knew about magic and spoke about guarding the humans... the man who claimed to be Sparda...

She shook her head. "Find someone else." she sputtered. "If it's so damned important then find someone else! Leave me out of it!"

Nora went to run, but he reached out, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "Please, wait..." he pleaded.

"Get off!" she snapped, twisting his arm and trying to jerk her wrist away. Using a basic escape technique that ultimately failed in the end.

"Our children... stop struggling and listen to me, please..." he said. "Our children would inherit our powers. My dark magic, your light magic... and if they learn to master it..."

She kicked at his kneecap, but he didn't budge. She forced her palm up against his elbow, but it never moved. It was as if his body was made of unbreakable steel...

"You must understand, Nora. I will not live past the end of this millennium and I _don'_t know how much time I have left. I have been working so hard... searching for centuries for a person with enough power..."

She drove her knuckles into his fingers. His grip was like iron. He sighed. "Please... what would it take to convince you?"

She responded by driving her palm into his face. He flinched... but still didn't budge. Her eyes were large... his nose was supposed to break. He was supposed to wince and let go, giving her an opportunity to escape... but he didn't. In fact all she managed to do was knock his glass eye out of place, which he correctly adjusted a moment later while looking into her blue eyes. She knew right then and there that she had made a mistake.

"I wish this wasn't necessary..." he hissed. She screamed, but his other hand lashed out, grabbing her by her throat and silencing it. "I took an oath and swore to protect the human race at all costs... I will not let Mundus take over..."

She kicked at him, choking in his grip, finding herself beginning to black out. And a moment later, she was no longer on the street. There was no warm, summer breeze. There wasn't a street lined with houses and lights. There was a spacious room, but she didn't have time to examine it. He tossed her onto the ground and she collapsed, gripping her throat and coughing violently. And he continued to speak.

"I promise you... after they are born, I will wipe away your memory and send you back home..." he was moving away from her. "I sincerely wish that this was not necessary..."

He was gone. A door had opened and closed, probably locked... it didn't matter. Within moments, she blacked out on the floor...

_Things seemed to be going according to plan... at least they __**seemed **__to be..._


	2. Chapter 2

**A Darkness That Torments You**

The room was spacious, plenty of gothic decoration and enough gloom to make the darkest shadows seem bright. There were windows with unbreakable glass, looking out on a landscape that Nora could have sworn that she painted before. Snowy mountains, an evergreen forest, and a frozen lake. Dark clouds and falling snow... she recognized the portrait_. "A Slumbering December", _she had called it.

He said that she had magic. One of those powers was healing, yes... but could one of them be the ability to foresee things? It would certainly make sense to her... she _was_ looking at the real slumbering December, wasn't she? And even the movie her parents had rented about Hades and Persephone: a creature from Hell kidnapping a woman to be his bride... that's what was happening now, wasn't it?

Nora had tried to break down the locked door. She smashed a chair, took the broken leg and proceeded to stab at it, only to have it snap in half after the fifth try. When she chucked the leg across the room in aggreviation, she found herself gaping at the fixed chair that had been rebuilt within seconds. It was as if she had never even touched it...

Nora didn't take well to being kidnapped. One of her greatest fears was being in the clutches of a madman. In fact, one of the most frightening horror movies she had watched was _The Silence of the Lambs_. She hated Buffallo Bill with a passion, the way he was kidnap those girls and lock them away, keep them in a hole in the ground somewhere and torture them. Let them tear off their fingernails while they tried to climb out, spray them with a firehose if they didn't do what he said, starve them for days and then skin them... the whole concept frightened her. She felt like Catherine Martin: taken from her home, not knowing where she was or what was going to happen to her...

It put her in a complete panic.

Nora found herself screaming, kicking and punching at the door, sobbing when her attempts failed (and they always did). That man, Sparda, happened to walk into the room while she was on a tirade. As soon as he came into her vision, she screamed and lunged at him. He simply waved his hand, and she felt a force burst through the air and smash into her, pushing her away from him and making her collapse back onto the ground. She got up and rushed again, and he merely repeated the process. She was back on the floor, furious as ever.

"I'll _kill_ you!" she hollered. "Take me home_ now!" _

When she screamed more profanities and threats, he rose his arm and folded his fingers into his palm, and she found that she was incapable of speaking. Her hands went to her throat and her jaw dropped. She tried to talk, panicked again when she couldn't and ended up stumbling and falling against a wall. The man stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, his eyes hardening and focusing on her all the while. His eyes were glowing. They were a maroon color, something she didn't notice before. But now that they flared like red hot fire, it was impossible for her to ignore.

"Part of me is relieved that your hatred towards me is so..._ strong_." he moved closer, and with every footstep, she felt her heart pounding louder and faster in her ears. "It will make me less _sympathetic _doing this to a person who shows me no compassion..."

He made another movement with his hand, and she felt herself being lifted off of the ground. She tried to scream, but it was impossible. With some sort of telekinetic power, whatever it was that he was using, he pulled her towards him and her throat found it's what back into his hand. It wasn't as tight as it was before, and her face was uncomfortably close to his. His red eyes seemed to burn into her blue ones... she could have sworn that she felt her irises burning...

She was reminded of another portrait of hers_. "Rings of Fire", _she had called it. A girl with black hair and dark skin (much like hers), whose eyes were burning away. The girls pupils were larger then normal with jagged edges, like a piece of paper that had been burnt. Small flames outlined those edges and worked their way towards the white sclera. If Nora hadn't seen her reflection in Sparda's glass eye, she would have sworn that her irises were doing the exact same thing as the "_Rings of Fire"_.

He grinned at her. "I will not kill you... I give you my word that when I am through with you, you will be home. You will not remember me, and your sanity..." he glanced at the chair that had once been broken, "What's left of it, anyway... will be intact." his other hand went to her face, stroking her cheek with his fingertips as his spoke. "Do you have anything you wish to say?"

She responded by spitting in his face. The wad of saliva and mucus was caught on his eyelid, but was proceeding to drip and slide down his cheek. The hand that had been caressing her was now wiping the spit away, and when it was gone, he opened his eye and looked from his hand to her face. She was furious, and a moment later she was prying at his hands and kicking at his chest, struggling to be freed from him. His red eyes flared again as she felt his grip tighten, and she would have screamed if she could when his hand began to morph and spike, fingers becoming talons as his hand went from normal to cloven.

He too, was furious. Calm and collected, but furious nonetheless.

"If I can draw power from your anger..." her tightened his grip and she winced, feeling his claws leave shallow cuts in her neck. "Or perhaps the _torment_ that you are to recieve, I may be able to create twins..."

In the blink of an eye, they were elsewhere. Another room, darker and more frightening then the one she was in before. With one arm, he slammed her onto a round table, pinning her down and she lashed out with her arms and kicked out with her legs. Once or twice, her foot caught him in the face, but that only angered him further. His claw left her throat and went to her chest, pinning her down with very little effort while driving the tips of his claws into her skin. She winced again... her chest was burning. She tried to scream, but whatever spell he used to silence her was still working.

Her limbs felt heavy. Her head began to ache. Very slowly, her struggles came to a complete stop and she laid on the table. Incapacitated, but not unconscious. He moved away, withdrawing his claw and turned his back to her.

"I feel ridiculous... part of me wants to convince you that this is necessary..." he said, obviously thinking to himself outloud. "But I know you will not listen... nor will you believe me..." he turned and looked her over. "You were fighting for your life back there, weren't you? Although you probably knew that you were no match for me... I honor your courage."

_You honor me because I fight back when my life is threatened? Idiot! A dog has that kind of courage! _she wanted to scream to him.

One of her powers... he said she could heal? She never believed in magic, she thought it belonged in the fairy tale stories that it supposively originated from. But after the past few incidents... she closed her eyes. Tried to focus... tried to concentrate... perhaps if she put her mind and determination into her magic, she could heal faster. Perhaps his spell on her would wear off, whatever he did to leave her incapacitated... she could at least run, couldn't she? Get as far away from him as she could? At least make an effort?

_Do that then_. she thought to herself, squeezing her eyes closed. _Try to get yourself out of this mess, before..._

There was a sound... he was sharpening something and her eyes snapped open. And they widened.

In his hand was a small, curved blade. It looked similiar to a sickle, but the blade was more circular. And when he ran that cloven hand over the blade, smoke rose to the ceiling...

_Oh god..._ she had to get out of here. Now.

"I wanted to use the gentle ritual for you..." he said, his eyes focusing on the blade more then her. "The kind that didn't leave a scar. But that only works for the ones who are willing..." he wiped his eye, where she had spit on him. "You, _obviously_, are not willing. And therefore..."

He cut the tip of his finger with the blade. A thin stream of dark crimson, almost black, blood went trickling down his hand. He examined it for a moment, then approached her, lifting his hand and letting it hover above her throat.

"Demon blood is... very poisonous to a human. It causes tremendous agony... and I assure you, you will feel great pain." he explained, that damned wicked smile playing on his face. "Would you like to sample it?"

It was funny, really... when he said that, she could see something in his eyes. Something that looked as if he was regretting those words as he said them. Was he an actor? Simply playing the part of the villian, when he was really someone good?

_Well if he is..._ Nora thought to herself._ He's doing a terrific job. Because I hate him as much as I hate every sick villian that he's imitating._

She lifted her body slightly and snapped her jaws at him, a poor attempt to bite him. Her body slumped back and she landed on the table. He narrowed his eyes and allowed the blood to drip onto the skin on her neck. Instantly, she felt her skin burning, just like her chest had. She tried to scream again, but couldn't. She was writhing and squirming, releasing hysterical, silent screams while her body twitched. Her neck went from burning to stinging, as if an insect had stung her. Her eyes opened and she looked at him, fury still in those blue eyes, her body shaking as she locked eyes with this monster.

_That's him, isn't it?_ she thought to herself. _Sparda the monster, not the hero._ she wanted to growl, scream, insult him, and all the while she wanted to cut her head off for not being able to do any of it.

His hand was still holding that knife. He was trembling, but was forcing himself to be steady. Any regret that he had for doing what he was about to do was quickly masked by Nora's hatred. She didn't show any signs of sympathy for his regret and relunctance. Even if she did, he was still going to torture her. Nothing was going to stop him. She wasn't going to be a willing sacrifice. He was forcing her into something that she wanted no part of, that she didn't ask for. Taking away everything she ever worked towards...

Her future... her plans... dreams of making enough money to attend that school... becoming a famous artist...

She felt heat radiating off of that blade as he lowered it to her chest. In a swift moment, her shirt was cut down the middle and fell open. Her heart pounded faster and her breathing intensfied. Nora had to will herself to breath slower so her heaving chest wouldn't ride up to meet that red hot blade. He sliced off her bra, watching as it fell off of her and she bit down on her bottom lip when she saw him eye her breasts. He didn't look aroused. She didn't have a large bosom, after all... or perhaps he was used to seeing bare breasts and was just acting casual. She remembered reading about Sparda and the succubus, Nevan. She was described as a beautiful, dangerous creature with the body of a goddess, capable of transforming her appearance in order to fulfill the fantasies of her lovers who preferred to have their women look a certain way. The book she read stated that Sparda was attracted to women with fair skin, blue eyes and golden hair, which was exactly the way Nevan made herself appear to be whenever he was with her.

Well that explained his lack of arousal. She didn't have golden hair or fair skin. The only thing that he could possibly admire about her were her eyes, and what good would those do? If she could speak, she would try to talk him out of this, as if the demon knew anything about remorse...

He cut away her pants and undergarments, then tossed the remains of the clothes (as well as her shoes) away. She felt his red eyes trailing up and down her body... and his clawed hand moved to her thigh. She twitched and her body tensed. Was this it? Was he going to rape her now? He was already spreading her legs and she felt his claws against her vulva, stroking it for a moment. She surpressed a look of pleasure, not wanting to give him the satisfactory, but then winced when she felt his talons move into her. It probably wouldn't have hurt as much if she wasn't so tense, but since that was the case, he slipped his claws deeper into her body, moved it around for a moment (which caused her more discomfort), before pulling his hand out. He looked her in the eye with a look of disgust.

"You're not a virgin?" he said. She rolled her eyes in response. "That changes everything..."

He moved away from her and she was somewhat relieved when he put away that strange blade. But that relief was gone in an instant when he came back with what looked like an ice pick and a much _larger _knife. Her eyes were bigger.

"The spell I intended on using would have been more effective on a virgin..." he explained, his grip tightening on his knew weapons. "But since that isn't the case..."

He used the knife to cut open his palm. Blood gushed from his hand, which he used to bathe the blades in. He approached her allowing the knives to hover over her stomach. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to picture something in his mind. Nora used to do something similiar, before she painted. What exactly was he imagining? How he was going to dismember her? What kind of look her face would depict while she was writhing in pain and torment? After a moment, his eyes opened... and that damned wicked smile of his returned.

"I remember, now..." he hissed.

He brought the item that resembled an ice pick down, impaling it into her stomach as her body convulsed and surged forward. He grinned again, then quickly pulled the blade horizontally, cutting open her stomach and probably impaling her reproduction organs as well. The torment... oh god, did she feel pain. Tears welded and poured out from her blue eyes, her lips trembled and she tried to steady her breathing. For some reason, she wasn't bleeding. Perhaps it was another spell of his, or... maybe it was her magic? Was this her healing abilities kicking in? Keeping her from bleeding to death?

If that was the case, it wasn't helping her. Part of her wanted to bleed to death. Part of her wanted to die in that room, feel no more pain... he was moving the blade in many directions, making the cuts appear to have some kind of pattern on her womb. His blood burned like acid and stung like venom. Smoke began to rise from her burning flesh and she tasted blood in her mouth from biting down on her lip.

She didn't want to look at the ice pick any longer. Her head jerked away and her body trembled when her eyes fell onto the larger knife. It hovered over her clavicle, and was brought down mercilessly. She wanted to scream louder this time. He pulled the knifes across her skin, twisting the blades at certain points to increase the pain. Sometimes he would pull the knives out, giving her a moment of relief before impaling her once again, creating new patterns on her flesh and increasing her pain. She wanted to cry when he went to work on her arms and legs. Her tender skin wasn't used to so much abuse. Her face was red and her skin was covered in blotches and hives when he ran the tip of the knives against her groins. If he impaled her there, she would murder him. One way or another, she would find some way to _murder_ him if he did that.

Thankfully, he didn't. She thought it was an act of mercy, but when she saw that look of pleasure in his eye, when she knew he was enjoying every moment of this, she was certain that he knew no such mercy.

He made more strange symbols and designs that outlined her face. Although they burned and hurt the most, they seemed to heal the fastest. After an indefinate amount of time, he rolled her onto her back. She wondered how she was still conscious after everything that had happened. Was it another spell? Why hadn't she gone into shock yet? She debated this while he bathed the blades in his blood once again and felt the blades impale into her back. He cut more strange, deep patterns into her back, along her shoulders, on the back of her legs and on the back of her neck.

This wasn't the first time she was completely exposed to someone. But this was the first time that she felt completely humiliated by being exposed. Perhaps that was his intention. He wanted to feed off of her anger, didn't he? Her anger and her torment... she wanted to fight against him, not let him have what he wanted without a fight, but she couldn't help herself. She hated him. She feared him. And she was hurting...

Just when she thought he would never stop, he pulled the knives away.

"You've been through enough for tonight..." he said, and she tensed up again. For tonight? Did that mean she would have to go through this all over again? Dear God, this man, no, this _monster_ truly had no pity. "The lines will scar. I will not be able to remove them when I send you back... hopefully you are led to believe that they were some kind of birth mark."

She wanted to curse. So badly. She wanted to spit on him again, but her strenght was close to zero.

He turned her over, onto her back and looked her over again. He eyed her abdonem and looked disgusted once again. "It's a shame, really... who wants a pear when someone has already taken a bite?"

She used all of her strength to spit in his face again. This time, the wad was tinted red from her bloody lip. He looked angry, she knew that he wanted to slap her. Why he didn't was anyone's guess. He'd already caused her enough torment, and promised that there would be more to come. What harm would slapping her do? He wiped the spit away and looked her in the face.

Those eyes... those horrible, blue eyes. Such _hatred_ radiated from them. Strength, anger, fire burning within her... he knew that she feared him, but it would seem that the fear had already morphed into nothing but complete, pure hatred.

He didn't like it. It was unnerving.

"You will have new clothes in your room. And food." he said, trying to ignore those eyes.

They reappeared in her room, and although she was too weak to dress herself and too disgusted to eat, he somehow managed to enchant her into doing both. He attempted to dress her himself, but stopped when she kicked his hand. There was a crack this time, and she realized that she had jammed one of his fingers. Not that it mattered, it popped back into place a moment later. It was evident that she did not want him to get close to her. So he didn't. As weak and exhausted as she was, she managed to put on one of those expensive looking gowns as quickly as she could. He stayed in the room until she finished eating, and left when she was ready to sleep.

She refused to sleep until he left the room. And judging by the exhaustion in her eyes, he knew she wasn't lying to him. The moment he stepped out, she was unconscious...


	3. Chapter 3

**A Darkness That Torments You**

There were more rituals. More of those horrible ceremonies. Each time, Nora experienced more pain. Her scars burned, her body was on the brink of collapse. At times it felt as if some invisible force was crushing her. The later rituals focused mostly on rebuilding her reproductive systems. He used different items and a few potions that contained demon blood, which he inserted into her uterus. The process was slow and painful. She felt the organs deteriorating, then being rebuilt moments later. Blood, nutrients, and other fluids had been flushed out of her body in the process, and Nora had never felt so humiliated and embarassed in her life.

He was always there. Always watching her, making sure things went according to plan. He hardly ever looked her in the eye during these rituals.

Her body ached all through the night. He said that his spells would strengthen her body so she would be capable of giving birth to demons. Well, in order to get stronger, one would have to experience pain. And that's exactly what happened. Her screams filled the night as her organs began to mutate and strengthen. She found herself smothering her screams with her pillow, not wanting to give him more satisfaction, even though he probably knew what kind of torture she was going through.

Weeks had passed. For the first time, she was taken outside, wearing one of those expensive black gowns that he had laid out for her. He said that normally he would have given her a white gown, a symbol of purity,_ virginity_. But since she didn't have it anymore, well, he certainly wanted to make it obvious, didn't he?

It was dark and cold. The temperature wasn't freezing, but she was shivering. The sky was covered in black clouds and he was looking up at the sky, gripping onto her arm and digging his nails into her skin whenever she resisted. And she did.

"There's an eclipse, tonight..." he hissed to himself. She was stunned when she felt his grip loosen... but she didn't waste time. She yanked her arm free and took off sprinting.

To her surprise, he wasn't rushing after her. Was he letting her run? She didn't want to believe that he was all of a sudden being merciful, since it was evident that he had none... was it a game, perhaps? He did seem like that kind of sick bastard, to toy with his victims...

She had no idea where she was going. Had no idea where she was. The trees looked familiar and she had some hope that it led her home, but she wanted to punch something when she realized that she remembered these trees from another painting of hers_. "Bleeding Flora,"_ it was called. The paiting consisted of a forest of large, unique and knobby trees that were coated with snow and blood. Well these trees were knobby and snowy, but she didn't see the blood.

Not yet, anyway... but she didn't want to think about that. She had to run.

Staying under the trees was a good option. He would have a harder time reaching her if he had to dodge around trees and bushes. As she ran, she heard something... a roar. A monsterous roar... and she knew exactly who it was. She yelped and continued to sprint, pushing her way through the forest desperately. There was another roar... this time from above her.

Could he fly? She remembered reading about the war in mythology, but it didn't say anything about him flying...

The dress was slowing her down. Branches and twigs were caught onto it and ripped it, leaving traces of cloth throughout the woods. There was more noise... a roar, something breaking... and then she felt something slam into her. She hit a tree and fell into the snow, wincing at the pain and scrambling to get to her feet, only to be thrown into yet another tree. Before she could focus, let alone get up and start running again, she felt a familiar cloven hand against her throat, lifting her off of the ground. Her eyes opened and focused... and she _screamed_.

Standing before her, holding her by her throat, was a demon with an insectoid appearance. His body was dark brown and black, there were large horns on his head, glowing red eyes, and some of the largest, sharpest teeth she ever saw in her life. His limbs were spiked, his body seemed to be covered in a type of shell-like armor. It didn't look like clothing, more like his body was a natural suit of armor, like the body of a beetle. His wings hummed as they fluttered furiously, and he hissed at her.

Nora screamed louder and went into a panic once again. She kicked harder, punched at him only to cry out when she hurt herself. He tightened his grip on her throat, slammed her back into the tree before tossing her onto the snow without any effort. As soon as she collapsed, he pounced on her, flipped her onto her back, and then held her down.

"Get off of me!" she screamed, throwing handfuls of ice and snow into his face as she kicked and squirmed wildly. "Help! God, someone help me!"

He knelt over her, lowering his head and rubbing his face against hers. She squirmed more, trying desperately to fight, but he held her in place, purring as his cheek continued to brush against hers. Was this his way of being gentle? Nuzzling her face? She was relieved that he wasn't trying to kiss her. There was no way she could kiss this monster. He pulled away for a moment just to look at her, probably seeing if she was giving into him, only to recieve another face full of ice and snow. He hissed and bit her hand.

"Ow!" she snapped. "You bastard! Stop it!" she curled her other hand into a fist and began to beat on the side of his face, although all she managed to do was just bruise her knuckles. His body was so rough and hard, she was surprised that she didn't break her hand with all the punching she did.

_Now would be an amazing time for that magic to kick in...! I hope I can do more then just heal... something useful...!_ her mind began to race.

He told her that she had light magic... light was a good guard against darkness, right? It would have to be, she would do anything to prevent this from happening. He was already trying to pull open her legs, but seemed to be having some complication with the dress. A minor distraction, giving her enough time to try and focus. She tried to push him away, squeezing her eyes closed, focusing, concentrating, trying as hard as she could to summon up the magic...

_Please work... I've never done this before... I don't know what to expect... but please..._

He looked from her dress to her face with a puzzled expression. At that moment, she threw her hands into his face and screamed. There was something glowing... something white... and light burst from her hands.

Sparda took the hit directly to his face. He roared and flew off of her, writhing and screaming in pain. Normally Nora would have relished the revenge, but decided against it and jumped to her feet. She ran as far away from him as she could, breaking through the trees and running for dear life. It didn't last long. Within five minutes, she heard that familiar roar from behind her and felt a sharp claw slice against her back. Blood flew through the air and landed on the trees nearby, staining the white snow a dark red.

_Bleeding Flora..._

He landed ontop of her once again and looked, for lack of better words, beyond pissed off. She tried to fight again, tried to use that magic once more, but when she tried to do it again, he became more violent. His claw swiped out, cuffing her against her cheekbones. She cried out when she felt warm blood on her face, tried kicking and using the spell against only to recieve another cuff. This time, it was verticle and across one of her eyes. Miraculously, she wasn't blinded by the strike. But she screamed and howled as if she were.

She swung out with her arms again, only to be bitten. And any magic she had moments ago seemed to be vanishing away with her strength. She was determined to fight, to at least go down fighting, but that anger and terror that he wanted to fill her with was intesifying with every passing moment. Whenever she was too much trouble for him, he simply threw her into another tree or tossed her away from him, only to be pounced on and batted at shortly afterwards.

Her face was bleeding, her body was weakened. Sparda stood over her and realized that if he continued this game, he would probably end up beating the girl to her death. And he couldn't let that happen. He knelt over her and using his claws, proceeded to rip open the dress.

Nora shivered when she felt the cold wind pass through the trees and sting her chest. She felt his cloven hands trace the designs around her plump breasts and her back arched slightly. Her body was overwhelmed, filled with euphoria and lust. She had felt this feeling before, when she was with an old boyfriend in the eleventh grade. Their relationship ended when he was forced to move to a town on the otherside of the country, and Nora was certain that she would never feel that kind of pleasure again. Especially since she was working so hard towards her goal, having no time to spare for boys and dates and all the wonderful things that went along with both...

She never expected to feel that kind of pleasure from the hands of a _rapist_. That was for certain. She fought against that lust, trying to ignore that euphoria although she enjoyed every moment of it. To vent her anger, she drove her knee into his groin, only to scream when she ended up bruising her knee. Her hands lashed up and she grabbed him by his horns, trying to pull him off of her even though resisting was clearly futile.

"God damn it!" she shouted. "Get off of me! Dear God just _get the fuck off of me!!"_

He responded by laying ontop of her, bringing his body as close to hers as he could. A cloven hand slipped into her underwear, tearing it off of her completely as his eyes scanned her shivering, trembling body. She was strong, fighting against him although she was weakened, practically defeated. Part of him admired her for it. The other part was wishing she would just submit. If he had to beat her into submission, he was willing to. But he was afraid that any more acts of brutality would only result in killing the poor girl.

One clawed hand cupped the back of her head, bringing her closer to him. He buried his face into her black hair, inhaling deeply and taking in her scent. She felt his chest heaving, pushing against hers and felt a hard spike of arousal against her inner thigh. His other hand proceeded down her stomach, stroking and carressing her vulva and feeling her hips rise to meet his hands. Soft, quiet moans escaped her. Her mind flashed back to mythology, when she read about the love affair between Sparda and Nevan. It seemed to erotic and seductive at the time, although he was known to be incredibly rough and savage during sex. Would he treat her with the same curtosy? She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take...

He growled louder, massaging the area between her legs roughly and pulling her legs open without any trouble. His eyes looked at her face as her hands weakly pushed against him, still trying to stop him. Even when his claws clamped onto her hips and he thrust himself deep into her body, she still tried to fight him off...

Even when she collapsed in the snow, exhausted and utterly defeated, even when she felt his seed explode inside of her, she had fought and struggled until she passed out...


	4. Chapter 4

**A Darkness That Torments You**

She woke up after days and days of slumbering. The moment her eyes opened, she glanced down at her body. She wasn't dressed, and any wounds that she had recieved that night were either healed or scarred.

Nora felt absolutely numb inside. She wasn't quite sure what kind of feeling she was experiencing. Sorrow? Misery? Anger? Everything blanked out as she sat up on her bed, her head hanging, her black hair falling into her face as covered her eyes with one hand. She knew this wasn't her fault. She didn't ask for any of this. But why... why did she feel so ashamed of herself?

Maybe that wasn't her real feelings... maybe she was confused. She was having a hard time focusing and thinking clearly. Why would she feel ashamed? That she couldn't beat him off of her? That she couldn't escape, or run faster... or maybe she was ashamed that she didn't run when she first met him. Every instinct and fiber of her being told her to run and she ignored it. Now he had her here... he tortured and raped her... things that could have been avoided if she had just run away...

So stupid. So, so stupid...

Nora rose to her feet, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as she proceeded to the bathroom. She walked by a rather large mirror and stopped to examine herself. Those scars on her looked so ugly, and just looking at them reminded her of the pain she went through to get them. Her hands went to her face next, tracing the scars across her eye and cheek. She remembered those claws ripping through the skin... and... oh God, why did he have to do this to her? As if it was bad enough that he cut and mutilated every inch of her body to the point where she would never be able to wear shorts, skirts, or tanktops again, now he had to mutilate her face as well?

She would never be beautiful again. Nora was never a particularly pretty girl, but _anything_ looked better then the way she looked now.

She made it into the bathroom, drew a bath and climbed into the water. She made it as hot as she could manage, whimpering slightly as the hot water stung at her skin. She brought her knees to her chest, pouring the water over her thighs and arms as her head hung. She had no desire to stay clean. Perhaps sitting in hot water was a way of punishing herself... she hated herself for everything that had happened. Hated herself for not being able to avoid the whole thing...

Nora lowered her head onto her knees and cried. They were quiet sobs, still not wanting him to hear her. Everything was lost, wasn't it? Her dreams of going to that school, the future she wanted to make for herself, let alone the life that she had been living before all of this... God, she hated him for doing this to her. Taking everything away from her... if he was Sparda and he said this whole situation was neccessary, forcing her into having his children so they could save the world... but why did he have to pick _her_? Didn't he see how young she was? Didn't he realize how much going to that school meant to her? Why couldn't he find someone else, a pretty blonde girl with fair skin, like Nevan had been?

She didn't want to have babies... she didn't want to be a mother...

When the water had cooled down, she stepped out of the tub and moved out of the bathroom, passing that mirror again. She looked at her ugly face and body and that anger and hate within her just multiplied. Her hands shook and her body trembled and using every bit of strength within her, she punched that mirror and felt relief when she saw it shatter. She watched it, not wanting it to miraculously go back to the way it used to be, like the chair had been. When it didn't, she collapsed infront of the fireplace, still naked. There were clothes laid out on her bed, but she didn't want anything from him. She grabbed the dress and threw it into the fireplace, glaring hard as it burned and burst into flames and ashes.

She watched it burn for the longest of times before she realized that she was no longer alone in the room. She felt his presence, heard his footsteps approaching her, but did not turn to look at him. She was shaking, that anger never leaving her for a second.

"Nora..."

His voice was tinted with something. Concern or caution? She wasn't sure. It could have been both for all she knew. Concern for what he did to her sounded ridiculous, when it was evident that he enjoyed mutilating her. Caution seemed more rational, considering that she was ready to attack at any moment. He saw her naked by the fire, looked to the bed and saw that the clothes were gone. He knew he had laid them out for her... but when he looked at the fireplace and saw the remains of the dress up in flames, he just sighed.

"I did what was best for the world and I have no regrets." he said to her. She was still shaking. "I know you will not forgive me... and I wish it had not been neccessary.."

She didn't speak to him. Silent treatment...

"At first I thought I would be disappointed with a non-virgin... but I enjoyed myself. I'm sure your lover before me was satisfied as well..."

_I'm not your lover..._ she thought to herself. He was trying to get her to speak, wasn't he? Or at least look at him. She would deny him both.

"Rape is nothing to my kind, Nora... this is how we mate. If you were a devil, you would be mine." he explained, walking closer to her. "I don't understand why you haven't submitted. Normally I would take you again..."

Still nothing. Did he truly want to take her again? She would fight every time. He might take her a thousand times over but she would still fight him. Hopefully in the process he'd finally realize that she was too much trouble and let her go... or kill her. One or the other...

Nora closed her eyes. She was thinking nonsense. He wasn't going to let her die, nor would he let her go. She continued to think back to that night, remembering all the gruesome details. The rituals, the rape... she remembered it clearly as if it was happening again. And now she was probably pregnant... with _his_ children. She never intended on having babies in her lifetime, and if she did, she wanted it to be with someone she loved. And she would never, _ever_ love this monster.

She wanted to throw herself into the fire. Kill herself. Kill the monsters inside of her. Get away from him forever... but he wouldn't let that happen. She knew, deep down she knew that if she even attempted to commit suicide, he would be on it in a second. Put the flames out before she hit them, catch her before she fell, make the water vaporize before she could drown herself...

"Nora..."

Still nothing. She was still shaking. He moved closer, kneeling down beside her and putting his hands on her shoulders. The very moment he touched her, she lashed out, not at him, but towards the fire. Ignoring the flames and the smell of her burning skin, she grabbed one of the burning logs, whipped around and smashed it against the side of his face. He yelped slightly (in surprise, not in pain) as the log broke over his face. Nora was on her feet, yelling and growling at her burning hand and watching as the wound began to close and seal up. Any burns that were on his face had healed as well, and he looked right at her.

"Don't..." she hissed. "Touch... me..."

He looked hurt. He hated how vicious she looked. So much anger and rage, burning inside of her. She reminded him of a caged animal... an _abused_ one. Part of him wanted to grab her by her black hair and smash her onto the floor, but the other part wanted to hold her, give her some comfort, take away all of that rage that he had put there.

"I don't want you to be alone like this." he explained, reaching out to her. "I dont' want your rage to fester and manifest within you."

"Get out of here. _Now_." she growled.

When he didn't, she went on another tirade. She picked up the nearest chair and threw it at him, which he caught with very little effort. That was followed up by her breaking, then throwing a small table at him as well. She grabbed pillows off of her bed, threw them at him even though they wouldn't cause any damage. Sparda was backing away, proceeding towards the door when he saw that she was ready to pick up another log to throw at him as well. His eyes widened and he lifted up his arms.

"Don't do that to yourself." he growled. "I will leave you... and come back when you are calm."

"Don't come back at all!" she hollered, grabbing one of the shards from the shattered mirror and throwing it at him. He ducked under it and sighed.

He stepped out of the room without a word, sighed again when he heard a loud THUD crash against the door, making sure he was leaving. He heard her sobbing as he left, and his head lowered.

"She is strong... and stubborn..." he said to himself. "Nora... I'm sorry that it had to be you..."


End file.
